


Noise Pollution

by Santana2



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-06 03:16:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1842292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Santana2/pseuds/Santana2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times the team tried to get Tony Stark to shut up, and the one time it worked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an older story that seemed popular on ff.net so I wanted to share it here too, since I'm branching out and all.

**Clint**

Clint was a patient man by nature. That was his job, after all, being a sniper/spy. Very little could rattle that patience, much less break it completely. _Very_ little _._

Tony Stark, however, was the exception to many a rule.

They were both staring out the broken window of an exceptionally tall building when Clint happened to realize this.

“I’m certain that this is somehow your fault,” that was about the fifth time Tony had said that as he continued to check the damage to his suit, “Great, even Jarvis is starting to blink out . . . left stabilizer’s busted . . . I don’t even think this chest-plate is _repairable_ –“

“Stop talking,” Clint interrupted flatly. _Before I shoot you._ He knew he had some explosive arrows left.

Tony ignored him, “I mean seriously, you could’ve been a little faster with the save there. Would have saved me a _lot_ of extra time in the workshop . . . of course now you have given me the perfect excuse to get out of that stupid charity thing –“

“Stark –“ _Shooting him would be too quick._

“But then Pepper will mad ‘cause I skipped the last one –“

“I mean it, Stark –“ _Really hope that suit’s not too damaged._

“Nice, Barton, now I not only have to repair the suit, but my girlfriend is mad at me . . . what are you – _Barton_!”

Shoving Stark out the window wasn’t Clint’s most original idea, but it was still incredibly satisfying to here Tony’s _extremely_ girlish scream as he went down.

When Tony finally remembered he could fly, he was hovering in front of Clint again in an instant, “That was rude.”

Clint sighed, “Just . . . stop talking.”

Tony suddenly had a _way_ too cheerful expression, “But I’ve only just gotten started.”

* * *

**Natasha**

Pepper should have been immune to shock by now, really.

Yet, somehow, walking in on the sight of Black Widow, on the floor of her living room, simultaneously straddling a panicking Tony and holding a frilly throw pillow to his face left Pepper a little speechless.

When Natasha saw the other red-head she merely growled, “It never _stops talking_.” Her eyes were kind of dilated and she was breathing hard as Tony tried desperately to escape.

Well, if she couldn’t be immune to shock, Pepper could pride herself on shaking it off quickly enough, “Just make sure he’s conscious by eight. I don’t care what he says; he’s not missing this charity benefit.”

The assassin gave her a jerky nod and pulled the pillow off Tony’s face.

“ _Seriously?”_ Tony gasped, “The famous _Black Widow_ is trying to kill me _with a pillow_?” Said pillow was shoved back onto his face as Pepper walked out.

* * *

**Bruce**

“Bruce.”

“I’m ignoring you Tony.”

“But I’m _bored_.” How he managed to make words have ten extra syllables, Bruce would never know. Bruce didn’t answer.

The silence lasted all of two seconds.

“Bruce.”

He took a deep breath, “Go play with your toys Tony.”

“But –“

“No.”

“I don’t w –“

“ _Tony,_ ” Tony opened his mouth again only for Bruce to slam his hand over it, “Shut up.”

Tony glared over the other scientist’s hand for a moment while Bruce savored the quiet. Then . . .

“ _Ew!”_ Bruce snatched his hand away as Tony cackled, “You _licked_ me? Seriously?”

Tony didn’t stop laughing for three hours.

* * *

**Thor**

 The god of thunder was usually the last person to fault anyone for being loud. Loud was one thing.

Stark was another.

How a mere Midgardian managed to hold that steady stream of nonsense in the middle of battle was beyond him. It was like a herd of Bilchsteim pounding in his head (and this wouldn’t be a big problem if the Captain hadn’t insisted he wear this blasted headset that let him hear, not only orders from the ground, but _everything else_ ).

Thor’s irritation only came to a head after the fight was over, however. Frankly, he didn’t think anyone could blame him for his actions.

“What’s with you, Blondie?” Was Tony’s greeting upon seeing Thor’s scowl pointed at him.

He tried to be nice (like Jane asked), he really did. Though, somehow, using the word ‘please’ around Tony Stark sets off some strange reaction within the man that resulted in another round of verbal abuse.

“You will leave my mother out of this Stark!” And with that Iron Man was hit with a particularly impressive bolt of lightning.

The rest of the team (sans the Hulk as they didn’t actually know where he was; and it was probably a good thing he didn’t just see Thor electrocute his favorite person) stood behind him. The Captain walked up to him with a sympathetic look, “You remember what happened last time you shocked his suit right?”

Thor thought for a moment . . . and immediately wanted to hit himself in the head with his own hammer.

As he saw Iron Man start to get up across the street, he could practically _hear_ the smirk the man underneath probably wearing.

“I will never be able to outlive this, will I?” Thor asked Rogers mournfully.

“Afraid not, big guy.”

* * *

**Fury**

“Director, a moment,” Agent Hill’s brisk tone sounded behind him and Fury turned.

“Something wrong, Agent?” Fury asked going back to the console in front of him.

“Sir, the basement crew is saying there are strange noises coming from one of the airtight vaults down there,” She paused, looking at him with something akin to exasperation.

“And?” Fury glanced at her.

“And when I tried to open it to investigate, I found it was locked to anyone except for you,” She was still staring at him.

He finally turned to look at her fully, “ _And?_ ”

“ _And_ when I checked the security feed inside the vault I found this,” she thrust a tablet at him showing a video feed of one very irate (and, thankfully, suit-less) Tony Stark slamming his shoulder into the immovable door. There was no sound, but Fury could read lips well enough to know he was using some extremely colorful language. In several different languages.

 “Director?”

Fury cleared his throat, “It’s entirely possible Mr. Stark was _accidentally_ locked into one of the vaults.”

Hill stared at him for a second, seeming unable to choose between anger and amusement, “Why exactly?”

“He _licked_ my hand, Agent.”

Hill was staring again. Finally she shook her head and took the tablet back, “And should we discover this little mishap soon, sir?”

“I’d say he’s got an hour’s worth of air left,” Fury replied turning away from her again.

“ . . . Understood, sir.”


	2. Chapter 2

Tony didn’t laugh much. Not for real anyway.

He had plenty of jokes and antics for the press and the public and his friends (the few he would classify as such) to chuckle about, but the man himself rarely joined in whole-heartedly.

In fact, it took a month of knowing the man and living in his house (tower? mansion?) for Steve to even hear it.

It was Bruce that made it happen. It was breakfast (and Steve is still trying to figure out how they all started magically eating breakfast together with no one saying anything) and he and Bruce were wondering through the kitchen preparing their respective meals. Tony sat at the table with his usual cup of coffee and tablet in front of him, rubbing the sleep away from his face.

Bruce wandered behind the fellow scientist and glanced at the tablet. Steve didn’t really hear what was said – it was probably some science joke he wouldn’t understand any way – but was startled at the sudden loud “HA!” from the table. When he turned, box of cereal in hand, Steve saw Tony with one hand still over his face laughing tiredly at Bruce who was also grinning wider than usual.

Tony looked up to see Steve’s deer-in-the-headlights expression and only laughed harder. Not at him . . . just because. It was infectious – that was the only explanation – as Steve and Bruce started laughing with him.

It was then that Steve started to see the resemblance.

* * *

It took even longer to hear Tony really talk.

Never let it be said that Tony Stark had any reserves when it came to talking. Banter was his specialty, almost more so than his engineering genius. He could twist a conversation and throw it back in the second party’s face faster than anyone, and then leave said party confused as to what the conversation was about in the first place.

But it was rare to hear Tony speak without the edge of snark and mischievous undertones. Although, his voice seemed permanently laced with teasing, the billionaire did have the ability to communicate without the underlying hostility. Well, it came as a shock to Steve anyway.

Nevertheless, it came and at first it was strangely unnerving.

But now, sitting in Tony’s over-the-top lab, watching him repair the arm of his Iron Man suit, it seemed perfectly natural.

“Honestly, Steve, when I said you should get out more, I didn’t mean extending your morning jog,” Tony said, continuing an argument that had been going on for a week now, “I was thinking more along the lines of getting yourself a lady-friend – Pepper and Natasha don’t count,” he pointed a screwdriver at Steve when the latter opened his mouth to object, “What I meant was to engage in a little _fondueing_ now and then.”

Steve was shaking his head in exasperation, “I still can’t believe he told you about that.” ‘Fondue’ had officially become the unofficial code-word for Steve’s non-existent dating life. Ever since Steve learned that Tony knew about that stupid misunderstanding with Howard, the super-soldier’s minor embarrassment had been enough to keep it in Tony’s books for a while.

“Well, one of the only things Pops and I shared was Captain America,” Tony muttered absently. It was unfortunate that Steve missed the bitter undertone.

“You know, it’s strange,” Steve mused after a moment, fiddling with a wrench on the table. He wasn’t thinking really, just making conversation . . . a dangerous thing  around this particular genius.

“What is?” Tony asked without looking up from his work.

“That you and Howard didn’t get along better,” Steve didn’t see Tony’s movements stop at that statement, “You’re just like him.”

That seemed to catch the junior Stark off-guard. He looked up at Steve rather abruptly, “How do you mean?”

The tone finally registered with Steve and he looked over at the man across from him, realizing too late he’d slammed right into no-man’s land in conversing with Tony Stark. It was fine to mention Howard in passing, but anything deeper than that and the offender usually got chewed out.

“Well, um,” Steve couldn’t think of a good way to back-track. He didn’t want to dig the hole any deeper . . . but Tony was watching him rather strangely, robotic arm on the table forgotten, like he really did want to know the answer. So, Steve gave it to him, “Well, it’s just that you sound a lot like him,” he chuckled, trying to keep his words light, “When you talk . . . it’s funny ‘cause I knew you were definitely Howard Stark’s kid when I heard you talk . . .” his voice trailed off as he studied Tony’s face which was suddenly unreadable.

The silence stretched into uncomfortable when Steve knew he’d really stuck his foot in his mouth, “Tony?” Unfocused brown eyes found their way back to him.

Tony seemed to suddenly remember Steve was there and smiled oddly. Steve looked on worriedly as the other glanced back at the table, at him, flicked to the door, and finally, without warning Tony stood up.

“Um, Tony?” Steve repeated.

Tony was half-way to the door when he turned back to look at Steve still sitting at the table. The former opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again pointing vaguely at the door and then disappeared through it.

Steve could only stare after him, blinking.

* * *

Tony barely spoke to anyone for days. It was incredibly unnerving, not just for Steve but everyone.

When Steve did finally hear Clint loudly telling Tony to shut up ( _or I swear I’ll make sure you hit the ground next time_ ) he was so relieved that he never mentioned the incident again, not even to ask what happened. Not that he hadn’t pretty much figured it out on his own.

It just became a silent agreement.


	3. Chapter 3

**Clint**

It is rare that anyone in the tower goes down to Tony’s workshop besides Pepper or Bruce. Pepper because she had enough experience to ascertain whether it was safe to go in and Bruce because, well, science.

The rest of them weren’t exactly afraid (they were superheroes, seriously, no fear of suspicious explosions at random hours, no sir) but they preferred to keep their distance. It didn’t help that they all questioned their own sanity for moving in with a mad-man in a suit every time they walked by the lab doors.

But Clint didn’t really mind.

He only glared at anyone who asked (except Natasha, because that woman is the queen-mother of all glaring) until they finally ran away.

 The fact was Clint sort of had a semi-permanent “nest” (Nat’s word, not his) built into one of the air vents running through Tony’s shop. Clint liked the noise.

Not to get it confused, the archer was just as prepared as the next person to smack Tony for the genius shooting his mouth off. But Tony in his shop was different.

Of course, Stark still talked. To _everything._ He talked to the bots, to Jarvis, whatever he was working on, to his suits, to himself . . . the list was endless. The rest was the sound of movement and work, gears whirring and tools clicking (sometimes Dummy smashing). Tony would laugh over successes and grumble over failures. Bruce would walk in sometimes and they would converse about things Clint only understood maybe half of.

Sounds of life.

When it got way too quiet in Barton’s head sometimes and he would start to think about . . . Well, some not cheerful things . . . When that happened he came down to his spot and just listened. And felt a little more human.

He knew Tony knew he was up there. The genius would leave things for him sometimes – a new arrow or gadget – with a note to “test this if you’re going to lurk.”

But otherwise, much to Clint’s relief and confusion, Tony never said a word about it.

**Natasha**

Natasha Romanoff could handle herself.

Seriously, that super-scary-spy thing was not just an act it was a way of life and she made it look good.

But sometimes even the Black Widow got overwhelmed. Like right now.

She wasn’t sure how many men she had just taken down, only that she was still completely alone in an undercover operation gone wrong and back-up was nowhere in sight. She had one stolen gun with three shots left and a knife that was about to slip from her grip because of the layer of blood. She thought she’d been drugged at some point, her head hurt. And she was alone.

Natasha had gotten way too used to working with Hawkeye. Or the team.

She was officially on autopilot, letting training take over and only seeing enemies. Bodies would come around corners and she would dispatch, not wasting time looking at faces, just acting.

Which is why she didn’t hesitate to attack when the next figure came round the corner.

She went at him with the knife first, only registering a threat in body armor, and when that didn’t work fired two shots.

Backing away she saved her last shot as a last ditch attempt at escape.

“Natasha?”

She flinched at that. And paused, which was stupid because this guy should be down by now.

“Hey, easy, it’s ok we’re here now, you’re safe.”

He was trying to distract her. She wouldn’t be safe until she got out of this underground maze and found back-up.

“Ok, Natasha? I’m gonna take this off now, alright?”

The figure started reaching for his head and pulling his helmet off. When it was off Natasha could make out his face in the dim light.

“It’s me, Tony. I know I’m not your favorite person but seriously, the gun was not needed to get the point across – “

“Shut. Up.” Natasha was feeling more frazzled by the second and someone trying to trick her was not helping.

The man paused. Her gun was inches from his face and he seemed to be going cross-eyed trying to look at it.

Then, “Okay . . . but let me say one more thing? If you kill me Pepper’ll be seriously pissed, as she has, and I quote, ‘not kept me alive this long just for me to provoke a super-spy’.”

Natasha lowered the gun. No way could that be anyone _but_ Tony Stark.

“Tony.”

“Natashalie.”

“Shut up and get me out of here.”

“Yes ma’am.”

**Bruce (and Thor, sort of)**

If there was one thing Thor knew about his teammate they called the ‘Hulk’ it was that the giant green creature did not like loud noises. Especially thunder.

Thor didn’t know what he’d done to the beast to deserve such prejudice, but he would take it back in an instant if he could.

Not that such a wish would help him now as the battle was over and the Hulk was still after him. It wasn’t nearly the monster’s usual fervor for a fight but they were breaking things as they raced through the streets (Thor racing and Hulk chasing) and the good Captain had asked Thor if he could keep such destruction to a minimum. Was it Thor’s fault if one of his main forms of defense was the beast’s least favorite?

 “Well, big guy, it looks like you could use some help,” a voice and a metal suit suddenly appeared beside him as he flew through the air and did nothing to raise Thor’s spirits.

“I do not believe there is anything you can do to help, Stark. Get out of the way,” As much as the Man of Iron was annoying, the Asgardian did not want him hurt.

“Yeah, sure, just lemme try something real quick, hm?” Before he could protest Stark was gone –

Falling back to the green giant currently chasing them.

“Stark!” Thor raised his hammer to go to the fool’s aid . . . but it seemed he wasn’t needed.

Immediately upon seeing the red and gold suit the Hulk stopped in his tracks, glaring at the puny thing blocking his way. (Well, _blocking_ was perhaps the wrong word, but still . . .) The Hulk growled low in his throat then roared in an attempt to dislodge the Iron Man from the air.

“Hey, Buddy!” Was the lunatic’s response.

The Hulk cocked his head like a curious puppy . . . then grabbed Stark with one giant hand and snatched him closer.

Thor shouted again, but Tony waved him off with one metal clad arm. Thor had a minor war with himself. Eventually he lowered Mjolner and decided to trust Stark unless something truly threatening happened.

The Hulk was still focused on Stark. The giant grunted at the comparably tiny tin man and plopped down in the street with Tony held in front of him.

“Hey, Buddy,” Tony repeated, more calmly, “I think that’s enough for today, huh? Remember what I said last time? Playtime’s over when the bad guys are gone.”

Hulk made a grumbling noise and pointed a giant green finger at Thor landing a few yards away. If the god of thunder didn’t know better he’d say the beast was pouting.

“I know, big guy,” Tony’s helmet had slid open and he was giving the Hulk a sympathetic look, “Hammer man is loud. But he’s on your side, and we have to play nice, right?”

Right, now the beast was _definitely_ pouting.

By now the rest of the team was arriving, with varying degrees of disbelief.

“What?” Was all Clint got out, before Tony was talking again.

“Now, it’s time to settle down. Can you do that for me?”

The Hulk grunted but set Tony down on the side walk.

A few hours later when the Doctor was back to normal and Thor was less annoyed, the god had to ask, “How did you know that would work?”

“I didn’t.”

And Thor was again annoyed. But slightly impressed.

**Steve**

Steve was really trying hard not to spook Tony again.

After the incident in the lab where he actually managed to strike Tony Stark dumb, the super-soldier felt pretty guilty. And conflicted.

So he’d kind of been avoiding Tony. He didn’t think Tony was angry about it, but he wasn’t taking any chances about accidentally sending Tony into that weird silent place again. That was freakier than any alien monster Steve could dream up and he was not eager to see that _look_ on Tony’s face again.

But apparently people began to notice. He wasn’t taking his usual trip down to the lab to make sure Tony was still alive when it got too quiet (which wasn’t that quiet really).

Eventually, Pepper passed him while Steve was fleeing a room Tony had just walked into and rolled her eyes, “You have to talk to him sometime, Captain. Who knows when the next apocalypse is?”

So, after about twenty-four hours of mentally prepping himself and a warning glare from Natasha, he was standing in front of Tony’s shop door. He had a peace-offering of pizza in his hand and he’d made sure Bruce wasn’t present because it would be awkward to have to ask the Doctor to give them some privacy.

He buzzed the door and stepped in when it slid open.

Turned out he probably shouldn’t have been so nervous.

Tony looked up at him and grinned comically with a mess of wires hanging out of his mouth as he worked on his latest project, “Hey, S’eve. S’up?”

The Captain hesitated in the doorway, but finally moved to put his package down, “I, uh, thought you might be hungry.”

“Did Pepper put you up to this? I told her I’ve been eating just fine, but she still fusses. She even got Jarvis in on it – “

“For your own good, sir.”

“Shut up, Jarvis.”

And just like that Tony was bantering with Steve and Jarvis and munching on pizza.

Steve was still a bit on edge, but Tony seemed normal. He supposed he couldn’t ask for more than that. They talked a while longer, Steve feeling more and more at ease but staying far away from any topics that might set something off.

The Captain was shocked then, when Tony was the one who brought it up.

Steve was just getting up to leave when Tony said, “You shouldn’t feel bad, you know?”

At Steve’s confused look, Tony sighed, “About . . . what you said. Me being like Howard?”

“Oh,” Steve fidgeted in his seat, “I, um, I am sorry though. I-I didn’t realize – “

“Why would you?” Tony interrupted quietly. Steve looked up at the younger Stark and Tony sighed again, seeming to choose his words carefully, “Howard . . . My dad wasn’t the worst father in the world, Steve,” he shrugged, “But he wasn’t the best either. He never hit me or yelled at me . . . At best he ignored me.” Tony let his gaze fall to the table top, and said slowly, “I don’t know if the Howard Stark you knew is the same man I knew. All I know is, when I was a kid, I never wanted to be like him. But I was always afraid I’d done just that. It’s not your fault.”

Tony shrugged again and looked up at Steve, “And that’s my speech. Stop feeling guilty, I seriously cannot handle a sulking super-soldier in my house.” He smirked and with that turned back to his project.

Steve figured he was pretty much dismissed, but he sat there a moment anyway.

“You are,” Tony looked up seeming almost surprised Steve was still there and talking, “Like him, I mean.”

Tony’s mouth dropped open but Steve continued, “You’re exactly the kind of person who would fly into enemy territory, against orders, because he knows it’s the right thing to do, no matter how crazy. That’s the Howard I knew.”

Tony’s mouth snapped shut and he stared at Steve.

Before either of them could start to feel too awkward, Steve got up and went to the door. Just before stepping out, though, he turned to a still stunned Tony, “And I’ll be here to make sure you don’t screw it up.”

The door slid closed behind Steve but it didn’t block Tony’s short bark of laughter on the other side.


End file.
